


Take My Picture

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin's more than happy to add pictures to Chanyeol's personal porn collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Picture

Jongin’s not expecting Chanyeol to be on his tablet when he slides into bed next to him. “Are you going to put that thing away?”

“Just looking at a few pictures,” Chanyeol says casually, eyes still riveted to the screen. Jongin peers over his shoulder and frowns.

“Of me.”

“Is there a problem?”

“I’m right here. And what are you— _oh my God_ ,” he breathes, a laugh wheezing from his lungs. Chanyeol’s got his dick in one hand, half-hard, palming the underside with slow, uneven strokes. He stops every once in a while to take in the details of a picture, the line of Jongin’s jaw, the hard curve of his hipbones sprawled against the sheets in an early morning portrait of sleep. The pace of his hand quickens, forcing tiny huffs of air between his pursed lips. When he’s finished looking, he uses his fist to drag the head across the screen. The picture changes.

“Oh, come on, don’t do that— _really_? You’re getting dick prints all over it.”

“What do you think I do when you’re not here?” He flicks his wrist and the picture scrolls to another, this time from an overhead view of Jongin, hair curled softly over his ears, eyes half-lidded, lips stretched wide around Chanyeol’s cock. Chanyeol makes a soft noise of recognition in the back of his throat and his fingers tighten: this snapshot’s obviously a favorite.

“ _Jesus._ ” The tablet shifts wildly as Jongin bats at the screen. Half a dozen pictures flicker past, all of Jongin in varying poses of fellatio. “You keep those on there like that? What if it gets stolen?”

“They’re password protected.”

“ _Still._ ” He pats Chanyeol’s thigh. “Put that away and come get the real thing.”

Chanyeol pushes the tablet aside and rolls himself on top of Jongin, mouth already busy against the soft skin of his neck. A groan works its way from deep within Jongin’s chest when Chanyeol rocks his hips forward, pushing his erection hard against the gap between Jongin’s thighs.

“You like pictures,” Jongin says quietly into his ear, a fist of Chanyeol’s hair wound in his fingers. “You like pictures of me. Of us. Like this.”

Chanyeol nods against his collarbone and flattens his tongue against the pink pebble of Jongin’s nipple. Jongin’s body shudders appreciatively into Chanyeol’s generous hands.

“How much?”

Another hip thrust, sharper this time. More abrupt. Translation: _a lot._

Jongin smirks and reaches out to the phone on the side table and slides out from underneath Chanyeol to lie sideways across the bed, limbs sprawled across the sheets.

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol mutters thickly, voice garbled into Jongin’s navel. “Can’t you wait? I’m kind of in the middle of—”

“Here.” Jongin holds his phone out. “Don’t use your dick.”

It takes a moment to register. Chanyeol’s eyes are still glassy, lips red from kissing. “I—what am I— _oh._ Jongin. Holy _shit_.” A blush creeps into the apples of his cheeks as he scrolls through the pictures. “Did you take these yourself?”

“Mmm.”

“When were these taken?”

Jongin shrugs, watching Chanyeol’s eyes pop slightly at the picture of Jongin, legs splayed, lips parted, gaze heavy and direct through tousled hair. He’s wearing an old shirt of Chanyeol’s, obviously too big in the way it hangs off his shoulder, exposing a broad swath of smooth, brown skin. Chanyeol’s eyes rake lower and settle on the position of Jongin’s hand in the photograph, two fingers knuckle-deep inside himself. He gasps.

“Fuck. _Jongin_.”

“Mmm?” He leans in and kisses Chanyeol roughly, tongue hot and insistent against the line of his teeth. Chanyeol’s mouth opens reflexively, pressing heated moans back into Jongin’s lips. “Are they okay?”

“I—fuck, _yes_ —”

“You’d better double password protect them,” he says, a fierce edge creeping into his voice.

“Triple,” Chanyeol agrees readily, tossing the phone aside on the pillow. Jongin coaxes him down onto his back and retreats on all fours to straddle Chanyeol’s knees, mouth trailing sloppy kisses down the arc of his lower ribs and into the crease of his pelvis. Chanyeol cards his hand through the wavy mop of Jongin’s hair and sighs happily.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he admits, the thumb caressing the smooth line of Jongin’s cheekbone.

“Take some more, if you want,” Jongin remarks quietly, nuzzling the dark, wiry hair below Chanyeol’s navel. Chanyeol exhales sharply in surprise, breath shaky and overwhelmed.

“Really?”

Jongin grunts, hand flinging vaguely towards the pillow where Chanyeol had discarded his phone. In the next moment he’s grasping Chanyeol’s cock at the base and swallowing him with unbridled enthusiasm. He takes him as completely as he can, lips nearly pressed aganst his fist as his cheeks hollow.

“Shit,” Chanyeol says into the crook of his elbow, his right hand searching for the phone. “Wasn’t ready for you yet.”

Jongin’s lips meet in a soft pucker when he pulls back, shiny with spit. “You don’t _have_ to, you know,” he murmurs slyly, eyes dark, twinkling with the challenge.

Chanyeol’s already got the screen trained on him. There’s no way he’s passing up this opportunity. He usually takes the pictures when Jongin’s not paying attention, too engrossed in what he’s doing to notice the phone until the white flash lights up the room. “Keep going,” he encourages, snapping a shot when Jongin sticks his tongue out to press against the slit of his dick. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Keep it steady,” Jongin instructs. “They’re no good if they end up too blurry to see anything.”

Chanyeol takes a few more of Jongin’s slow, deliberate nods, noting with pleasure the way Jongin never breaks eye contact with the camera. _He’s posing,_ he thinks, and something goes tight with satisfaction in his groin.

“I’m gonna—” he croaks, moments before he releases down Jongin’s open throat, cock pulsing with each thundering crest of pleasure. Jongin laps it all up, swallowing neatly when he pulls his mouth off Chanyeol’s softening dick.

“Well?” He grins, eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“That was hot,” Chanyeol sighs, pulling Jongin up by the shoulders to kiss him hard against the mattress. “So hot.”

“No, I mean my pictures. I want to see how they turned out.” Jongin brushes him aside and dives for his phone. “Oh, no. These are shaky,” he says, slightly dismayed. “You can’t see a thing.” He looks over his shoulder at Chanyeol. “Sorry.”

“Next time, maybe.” Chanyeol feels his dick stir when the idea of a second round crosses his mind. “Give me fifteen minutes.”


End file.
